


Sex

by Bishie Huntress (Artemystic)



Series: 2015 NaNo Prompts [5]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Some Fluff, Some angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 01:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5725417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemystic/pseuds/Bishie%20Huntress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed confronts Mustang about inappropriate topics of conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sex

**Author's Note:**

> No, there is no sex happening here. Sorry, all you hopefuls! Still, I hope you enjoy this. Please let me know!

### Sex

“You bastard!” Ed raged once his brother was safely out of the office and on his way home. He clenched his fists. “I can’t believe you’d say something like that to Al! Not everyone has sex on the brain all the time like you, you bastard!”

Roy Mustang folded his hands together on his desk. “Really, Edward. The same insult twice in a row? You’re getting rusty. And have you seen the way your brother looks at Miss Rockbell? He definitely has sex on the brain.”

Ed stomped forward and slammed both hands down on the desk, leaning over it to glare at Roy. “It’s not something I need to know about,” he hissed.

Roy leaned back in his chair. “Please. Your brother was hardly embarrassed. He was the one who came to me, after all.”

Ed pounded a frustrated fist on the wooden surface. “That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t need to hear about it!”

Roy sat forward. “That sounds like a personal problem, Fullmetal. Maybe if your own love life was a little less… lacking…” His sentence trailed off suggestively.

“Who’re you calling so tiny that—that—“ Ed shut his mouth abruptly, his face on fire.

Mustang smirked. “No one said anything about your… _size_ ,” he said, the pause significant though his eyes never wavered from Ed’s. “Just your inexperience.”

Ed had no comeback for that. The truth was, he’d just never had the time for relationships when he was younger, and now that he was older, his quest complete, he hadn’t found anyone he _wanted_ to have sex with. Still…

 “My experience, or lack thereof, is not the problem here,” he said, folding his arms and giving Roy his best glare. “The problem is that I really don’t need to know anything about my brother’s sex life!”

Roy raised an aggravatingly perfect black eyebrow. “I guess that’ll teach you to just barge in here without knocking, then, won’t it?”

“Gah!” Ed threw his arms in the air and turned away. He stomped over to the couch and flopped on it just like he was a recalcitrant teenager again.

Roy waited until Ed was lying on the couch, arm flung over his face, before he said, “So, enough about Alphonse. I assume you have a report for me.”

Ed growled as he stood again. He grabbed the forgotten folder of notes from the low table in front of the couch, marched over to Roy’s desk, slammed it down, and stormed back to the couch.

Roy’s smirk never faded, but Ed saw him try to hide a wince at the way the furniture creaked threateningly when he landed on it again. The bastard turned to the notes, and for a while, there was silence in the office.

Ed felt his heartrate and breathing return to something resembling normal. He rested his arm on his forehead so he could stare up at the ceiling. Mustang really needed to dust, he decided, seeing a cobweb in one of the corners.

Logically, he knew Roy was right, and he knew none of it was the older man’s fault. The part of him that was vulnerable and hurting wanted someone to blame, but there was no one to blame but himself. He was the one who tried to bring his mother back, who decided to join the military and search for the Philosopher’s Stone. He was the one to walk the road that led to a bleak and lonely end.

Ed lifted his right hand, watching the way the sunlight through his skin turned the edges translucent. He clenched it into a fist, feeling his short fingernails dig into his palm. Even now, years later, his hand still felt different and new. Ed relaxed his fingers and dropped his arm back to his forehead.

Was it selfish, after everything they’d managed to accomplish, to want a little more? To want something for himself? His hands clenched again, unconsciously, and his eyebrows lowered in self-directed anger. Of course it was. He should be happy that Al had his body back, that he was able to experience everything he’d been missing out on, and just leave it at that.

And he _was_ happy for his brother. But as he watched the love bloom between Winry and Al, it was hard to silence that little part of himself that also longed to be loved. He sighed.

“Fullmetal. If you want to mope, go somewhere else.” Roy’s voice cut through his moping and self-pity.

“I’m not moping, asshole,” Ed said without venom.

“It sure looks like it from here,” Roy said, setting down the notes. “If you need to talk…”

“Well, for starters, how about you stop calling me ‘Fullmetal’? That’s not my name anymore.” Spitefully, Ed lifted his feet and planted them on the cushions. He ignored the faint twinge of guilt in his gut. He hadn’t treated Roy’s furniture so poorly in _ages,_ but it’s not like his boots were _that_ dirty. And really, the bastard was asking for it.

“Why?” Roy asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Ed scowled. “I just said. It’s not my name anymore.”

“Retired military officers keep their rank; the same holds true for state alchemists and their titles.”

Ed closed his eyes and tried to forget the years of _useless fuck-up, never gonna find a way, so fucking stupid._ “Yeah, well. It’s not a name I wanna be associated with, okay?”

“Fullmetal is a hero,” Roy said, and all Ed could hear was mockery. He sat straight up, fire in his eyes.

“I am not a hero!” he snarled, fisted hands trembling. “I was an arrogant brat who thought he could play God. I spent half my life just trying to clean up after myself. ‘Hero’ is just some fucking propaganda used by the fucking military to make themselves look better.”

Roy did not look away, and Ed felt incandescent, so _alive_ under that dark gaze. “It is not,” he asserted firmly. “Throughout everything, you did not allow anyone to turn you away from your moral compass. You hold everyone around you to exacting standards. You shine, Edward, like the sun, and we cannot help but look up to you, even as you blind us.”

Ed stared. What? What even… How did he respond to that? “Don’t place me on a pedestal,” he said uncertainly, looking away. No one had ever said anything so—so… He didn’t even know.

“It is not a pedestal.” Ed looked back and Roy looked down at his bare hands, rubbing fingers and thumb together in a soft approximation of a snap. “Edward, these hands… They are not clean. They have done terrible things, things that I can never make right. But when I look at you”—he looked back up and caught Ed’s eyes—“I think that maybe, _maybe_ there’s some kind of hope for a battered, filthy soul like mine, that maybe I can rise above who I was and become someone—someone more like you,” he finished softly.

Ed couldn’t hold his gaze. He had to look away because the look in Roy’s eyes was too intense. His eyes said things that Ed never thought to hear, things like _I’ve seen that darkness. I’ve been there. I have those scars, too._

“In my eyes, at least,” Roy said quietly, “you are a hero.”

“I don’t want to be a hero,” Ed said helplessly. He felt adrift in a sea of turmoil and clutched at his cushion to steady himself. People didn’t say these things to him. This wasn’t the ambiguous “Hero of the People” crap. It was too direct, too candid. “I just want to be a person. A normal person with”—his voice hitched— “with normal relationships,” he said, and crap, he was going to cry and it was all Mustang’s fault, the bastard.

Roy stood, grabbing a dusty box of tissues, and moved around the desk to sit next to Ed on the couch. He set the tissues on the low table in front of them. “Edward,” he said, voice quiet as though he thought Ed would shatter if he spoke too loudly, “how long has this been bothering you?”

Ed swiped at his eyes with a sleeve before any tears could fall. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “It’s just how it is.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Roy said. “Why can’t you be a normal person, or have normal relationships?”

“I’ll never be a normal person!” Ed burst out. “Too much has happened to me, too much for anyone else to understand. Who can I share that with? No one!” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s just how it has to be,” he said, a little more calmly. “It’s just the price I have to pay.”

Ed hadn’t told anyone he was feeling this way, not even Al. Especially Al. He was used to hiding away his own doubts and concerns to keep his brother from worrying. Everyone was so eager to believe in the happily ever after the Elric brothers had created for themselves, that they deserved, that no one had looked closer, and Ed used that to his advantage.

“Edward,” Roy began, “you don’t have to be alone. I’ve seen you overcome impossible odds before.”

“That was different,” Ed said with a short, negating swipe of his hand.

“Why?” Roy wanted to know. “Because before, it was about Alphonse, and now it’s about you?”

“Yes. No! Not—not like that.” Ed ran a hand through his hair. “How am I supposed to overcome something like this? A relationship should be built on respect and truth. My life has been one giant fuck-up after another. How can I tell that to some stranger? Who could even _begin_ to understand?”

“I can,” Roy said quietly.

Ed snorted. “What, am I supposed to expect you to fall in love with me, then?”

“I didn’t say that,” Roy said, “but we can at least be friends. Some friendships are very fulfilling. Look at myself and Major Hawkeye, for instance.”

Ed frowned, looking at Roy. “You guys aren’t… uhm… _you know_?”

Roy chuckled. “We are just friends.”

“Huh. I always thought all your lady friends were just a front because you couldn’t be together with Riza.”

“I’m afraid not,” Roy said. “There is another story there.”

“Yeah, but… We’re already friends,” Ed said, eyebrows dipping in a frown. “I have friends. I want more. I know… I know I shouldn’t, but—“

“You definitely should,” Roy said. “It’s okay, it’s _good_ to want more. And it’s perfectly normal.”

Ed looked down at his hands. “I don’t deserve more,” he said, so quietly that he didn’t think Roy would hear him.

“Edward.” Roy gripped Ed by the shoulders, turned him. “Ed,” he said, and Ed looked up hopelessly.

“Ed,” he said again, “you are such a bright, beautiful young man. You have a good heart, capable of so much caring. You of _all_ people deserve more.” His hands tightened. “Edward,” he breathed, and Ed could see his pulse fluttering in the hollow of his neck as he swallowed, and his expression was too open, his eyes saying too much, more than Ed could bear to hear, “you deserve it all.”

Ed’s eyes widened. “You…” he breathed in soft accusation. Roy dropped his hands suddenly and stood, pacing over to the window. “Me?” Ed asked, not believing.

“I—“ Roy stopped and stared out at the brilliant orange and pink sunset, folding his hands behind him, but the tension in his shoulders attested to his unease.

“When?” Ed demanded.

Roy turned his back on the window. He walked over to the couch again and sat, refusing to meet Ed’s eyes. He folded his hands together in front of his mouth and braced his elbows on his knees. Then his hands slid up to his forehead, covering his eyes, and he released a sigh of resignation. Without looking up, he said, “You weren’t supposed to know.”

“So, what. You were just never gonna tell me?” Ed ran a hand through his hair. “How long, Mustang?”

Roy moved his hands, looking down at them. “The last three or four years,” he admitted. “I think I realized it the day you came in to resign. You were spitting mad that your resignation had been denied. I looked at you, and all I could think was that I wanted you: your fire, your passion, your light, your everything.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Ed couldn’t help the note of helpless bewilderment in his voice, and Roy looked up at him. For a moment, he stared, eyes gleaming impossibly dark in the late afternoon light. Finally, he answered.

“You had your brother to take care of,” he said. “At the time, it would have been wrong—selfish—to put that kind of burden on you.”

“And now?” Ed asked, watching him steadily.

“It just became easier to ignore it,” Roy said, looking back down at his hands. His thumbs pushed and picked at each other restlessly, and Ed watched as he made a conscious effort to still them. “There was never a good time to bring it up, and I had no way of knowing if you’d be receptive.” He paused for a moment. “And our friendship was too new, too fragile. I didn’t want to risk what I had with you over a maybe.”

He dropped his hands and looked up, meeting Ed’s eyes squarely. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Ed snorted. “Having feelings? If there’s one thing I know, it’s that we’re all just human.” He watched as Roy ran a pale hand through dark hair, pulling it back from his face. For the first time, Ed allowed himself to acknowledge that Roy was a very good looking man, maybe even exceptionally so. Not that he’d tell the bastard that; it would swell his already outrageously oversized ego. More importantly, though, Roy had managed to earn Ed’s trust and finagle his way into ‘friend’ and cautious ‘family’ status. Although, given what he was about to say, maybe ‘family’ was putting it too weirdly.

“If you want,” he started tentatively, picking at the frayed hem of his sleeve, “maybe—maybe we could give it a try.”

Roy frowned, which wasn’t the response Ed anticipated at all. “I don’t want you to try a relationship just because you think it’s your only chance,” he said, “or because you feel sorry for me. I assure you, I’m more than capable of dealing with this on my own.”

“I’m not saying it’s that,” Ed snapped, and took a deep breath. “I just… I’m not saying I’m gonna fall in love with you. It might not happen. But I trust you, and I can be honest with you. I don’t have to hide myself. I don’t… I don’t have to worry about how filthy my own soul is.”

Roy was silent, watching him, waiting.

“We don’t have to,” Ed continued. “You’re already more invested than me, obviously, and I get it if you don’t want to. But.” He looked at Roy, his gold eyes steady. “I can promise that I will give it my all. I’m not gonna half-ass anything.” He shrugged. “I’m willing, but it’s up to you.”

Roy gathered Edward’s hands in his. “My dearest Edward,” he breathed, his eyes alight, “‘willing’ is more than I ever thought I could hope for.”

“Is that a yes?” Ed asked with a tentative smile.

“Definitely,” Roy said, beaming.

“Good. Let’s start with dinner, then. I’m starving!”

Roy laughed and stood, pulling Ed up with him. Ed was gathered into arms that felt surprisingly _safe_ and Roy pressed a quick, soft kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t ever change,” he said.

“Wasn’t plannin’ on it. C’mon, food!” But Ed didn’t move right away. Roy’s arms were warm and welcoming, and staying here for a moment felt good. And he thought that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to this. Also, it was convenient for hiding his red cheeks.

“You know,” Roy said slowly, his chin resting on Ed’s head, “Alphonse and I weren’t actually talking about sex. We were discussing his latest experiment in thermodynamics.”

_“What?!”_

 


End file.
